


open my eyes, to see you and i

by ashenlight (roserefs)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Couch Sex, Feelings Realization, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn with Feelings, this is a segment from a wip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:29:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29868483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roserefs/pseuds/ashenlight
Summary: “Min.”Minho glances to his side, to where Jisung is perched next to him on the couch. He’s reminded how he doesn’t credit the boy with how objectively beautiful he is; Jisung is good-looking but somehow, sitting here while bathed in the glow of the television with wide-eyes and a shy smile, Jisung looks nearly angelic.The thought startles Minho more than it should. He’s known Jisung for years, he knows exactly how Jisung looks. But maybe it’s the way Jisung’s dark hair is haloed by the light or the way he’s kneeling on the cushion, turned completely to face Minho. Or maybe it’s the stupid bucket list drawn onto the wall behind Jisung’s head that makes him pause and think.Who is Jisung to him?
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 8
Kudos: 134





	open my eyes, to see you and i

**Author's Note:**

> hi! i’m the second and final author on this account, anon a! ashenlight is my pseud ^^
> 
> this is my first time posting explicit smut of any sort so please be kind, but if anything is off please let me know :) also, this is a scene from a wip that one day will be posted, so i guess consider this a sneak peak ><
> 
> if you haven’t checked out anon e’s first work on roserefs, [this is me over you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29853348), please go show that fic some love! 
> 
> xx

☽

“Min.”

Minho glances to his side, to where Jisung is perched next to him on the couch. He’s reminded how he doesn’t credit the boy with how objectively beautiful he is; Jisung is good-looking but somehow, sitting here while bathed in the glow of the television with wide-eyes and a shy smile, Jisung looks nearly angelic. 

The thought startles Minho more than it should. He’s known Jisung for years, he knows exactly how Jisung looks. But maybe it’s the way Jisung’s dark hair is haloed by the light or the way he’s kneeling on the cushion, turned completely to face Minho. Or maybe it’s the stupid bucket list drawn onto the wall behind Jisung’s head that makes him pause and think.

_Who is Jisung to him?_

“Are you lost in your head?” 

In an instant Jisung is close; hands on Minho’s shoulders and thighs pressing to the outsides of Minho’s own. Minho’s gasp is quiet, but Jisung still hears it as he’s now so close, and is smiling softly. 

“Did I bring you back?” Jisung isn’t mocking, no. Instead his fingers are threading into the hair at Minho’s nape, and with every brush against his upper neck he shivers. Minho’s eyes catch on the bow of Jisung’s lips and he realizes, with what feels like a blow to his heart, that he needs Jisung closer. 

He _needs_ Jisung, no matter where he goes in his lifetime or who he becomes. Maybe that’s why he agreed to Jisung’s bucket list. To permanently close the idea of distance between them. 

“I’m here,” Minho says, and his voice catches the slightest bit. 

“I know.” Jisung leans forward and presses his lips to the base of Minho’s jaw, and at the surprise Minho’s hands fly to grip Jisung’s hips, needing something to tether to. His hold must be a bit too rough because Jisung pulls away with concern in his eyes. “Is this too much? I didn’t exactly ask you.” 

“No,” Minho breathes, his head reeling at the boy sat here in his lap. “Stay, please.” 

If Jisung is startled he doesn’t show it, and instead brings one hand to Minho’s cheek, brushing along where he had kissed until his thumb is pressing against Minho’s bottom lip. “Can I…” 

And though the idea of kissing Jisung is foreign, when Minho nods and Jisung bends, growing closer and closer, he realizes that maybe this is what he’s been missing. 

Jisung’s lips are still slick from the chapstick he’d been so intent on applying earlier, and as brief as the first kiss is, Minho still feels the residue on his own lips. Jisung leans back, as if searching for confirmation, but Minho tugs him back down and this time he makes sure the chapstick saturates.

Jisung lets out a soft noise as Minho slips through the line of his lips and then they’re breathing each other’s air, and Minho is lost. 

Lost in Jisung. 

The shift of Jisung’s hips is what brings him from his daze, as their crotches brush, and Minho is jolted into a whole new set of feelings. Feelings he recognizes to be desire and lust. For Jisung. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Jisung scoots back on Minho’s thighs, red-faced and embarrassed. But peering up at him, Minho realizes by the glazed look in his eyes that Jisung is just as affected by the kissing as him. It stirs something inside of him and as if by a force unknown, he pulls Jisung by the hips up his lap, until he feels Jisung, half-hard, against his own arousal. 

“You don’t have to move,” Minho whispers, and he’s almost sure Jisung will pull away again. But he receives his answer when Jisung grinds down on him, finding Minho’s lips in time for them to moan into the heat of each other’s mouths. 

Among a thousand other thoughts and clashing emotions, one in particular stands out in Minho’s head. Something has been changing between him and Jisung throughout the past months. Were they meant to be led to this moment?

As if hearing his thoughts, Jisung pulls from their kiss, and Minho stares up at him in awe; in awe of this boy who means the world to him. The peak of Jisung’s beauty can’t be anything but this; his skin colored with rose and his lips swollen from Minho’s kiss. He’s still glowing with the light of the television, but now Minho swears Jisung can’t be anything but an angel. 

Jisung breathes Minho’s name and though the words are barely audible Minho hears, and pulls him into another kiss. The velvet of Jisung’s mouth reduces Minho’s thoughts to vague imagines, but when Jisung’s hand trails down Minho’s abdomen, Minho forces himself to pull away. “Where are we going with this?” It’s only right that he asks, before they do something that will alter countless years of friendship. 

Jisung glances around, nervous, but the desire that is coating his eyes in glass doesn’t allow him to falter. “I want to get us off, together.” 

Minho groans, the noise warped ever so slightly by his nod of acceptance, and then Jisung’s fingers are at his waistband, nudging at the button. “Can I?” 

“Please,” Minho whispers, finding his own hand at the front of Jisung’s jeans, his fingertips ghosting over Jisung’s erection, which makes him miss a breath. “Can I?” 

“ _Yes._ ” 

Undoing Jisung’s pants is a tense moment for both of them, as they finally fall over the line of _best friends_ to _something more_. But Minho doesn’t falter, and instead tugs down Jisung’s jeans to have enough access to him. Jisung whines Minho’s name, staring at him with massive eyes that are darkened with lust. Minho doesn’t know where to look, either at Jisung or at their laps. But for the moment he chooses Jisung, watching the boy shiver and whine as Minho palms his dick through his boxers, and then muffle a cry with a bite to his lip when Minho slips his hand within the confines of the fabric. 

Minho’s grasp on Jisung’s cock is loose as he thumbs at the head, pressing into the precum beading from the slit. Jisung moans and Minho looks up, just in time for Jisung’s lips to descend onto his. It’s the harshest kiss they’ve shared, with Jisung nipping Minho’s lip to incite a sound low in his throat. It’s also a distraction, and as Jisung kisses him with the burn of a fever, he unzips Minho’s jeans nearly without him noticing. When Jisung’s hand wraps around his length, Minho is jolted from the kiss, as his breathing grows rocky once more. 

“Fuck, Jisung.” Minho’s eyes close at the feeling of Jisung pumping his length, and nearly forgets to return the favor at the swirl of molten pleasure that is building in the pit of his stomach. He feels Jisung’s stare and wonders if Jisung is looking at him like he had looked at Jisung; like Minho is beautiful. Like he’s worth the world. 

“Let me,” Jisung whispers, his words causing Minho’s vision to refocus. He gestures to Minho’s hand and when it slips away Jisung wraps his fingers around both of their dicks, precum slick on the skin of his palm. The first movement of Jisung’s wrist steals a strangled gasp from Minho, and his head drops to the back of the couch. Jisung only leans towards him, his forehead resting against Minho’s shoulder, as his one hand grips the material of the couch and his other moves around them.

Minho can hardly hear anything; the drone of the television is nothing but faint static and his own labored breaths are drowned by Jisung’s heavy breathing and barely repressed moans. Jisung’s hand is so warm and the drag of them against each other is indescribable.

Also indescribable that he’s able to be with Jisung like this. His Jisung, his best friend, good luck charm, his everything. 

Jisung is his _everything._

The thought, joined with the pressure around his dick and Jisung himself perched in his lap, sends him over the edge all too quickly and he comes into Jisung’s hand with a cry. The stars have barely cleared from Minho’s eyes when Jisung follows, coming with a moan of Minho’s name on his lips. 

Minho slips one of his hands up and down Jisung’s back, the fabric of his tee bunching under his fingers, while he tries to pull himself back to the here and now. Jisung seems to be doing the same, having released them, and all too soon he’s pulling from their bubble of afterglow to reach for the box of tissues on the couch side table and clean off his hand. 

“Sorry about your shirt,” Jisung whispers, subdued as if waiting to be reprimanded. He grabs another tissue to dab at the release that had gotten onto Minho’s top. 

“It’s okay, Sung.” Minho takes the tissue and drops it to the ground with the others, and as Jisung has, fixes his pants.

The silence that falls is too quiet, and too awkward for them. Minho feels it but he doesn’t know what to say to the boy curled up beside him now; that he’s everything to Minho? That Minho would go to the stars and back for him if he asked? But he doesn’t have to ponder for long because Jisung is the one to break the quiet.

“Don’t ask me to go back,” is what Jisung whispers, and his eyelids flicker in betrayal to his exhaustion. “I can’t go back to what we were.”

He’s not referring to before this night, Minho realizes. These past months have changed them; they long ago exceeded what simple friends are. Best friends, even. 

“Then become something new with me,” Minho says, and watches as Jisung’s expression grows visibly lighter until he’s smiling. “Hm?”

Jisung nods, and compresses his joy into a gentle kiss. 

“Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!


End file.
